Chapter 24 Anika
ANIKA
Every time he touches me, Miko sets my soul on fire. His kisses melt away the stress and anxiety that have been plaguing me since my walk in the garden with Sora.
This, here, now, with Miko hovering above me, his powerful hips spreading my thighs, is one area of our relationship that I don’t have to doubt anymore.
If I’ve learned one thing in the month we’ve been married, it’s that sex with Miko will always be out of this world.
His talent when it comes to bringing me to climax is astonishing, and where I used to dread being alone with Pyotr, I find myself craving Miko’s touch, wishing for a stolen moment in his busy schedule.
His lips chase away the dark shadows that linger at the corners of my mind, promising only pleasure and euphoria in his capable hands.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he growls against my skin, his hands following his lips as he blazes a trail down my curves. “Take off your top,” he commands, the note of authority in his voice releasing butterflies in my belly.
My hands are moving to obey him before I have time to process, and a shiver races down my spine as he drags my shorts off while I’m momentarily blinded by the shirt coming over my head.
I toss the shirt aside, raking in a deep breath at the sudden sense of freedom. Then Miko falls on top of me, his lips claiming mine with a fiery kiss.
My skin tingles, my core tightening as my clit starts to pulse with anticipation. Like some kind of sexual Pavlovian effect, my body is so attuned to Miko by now, just the sound of his voice makes me wet. A fact that seems to satisfy him to a sinful degree.
“God, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he growls, his hips rocking forward to grind against me as he dry humps me through his jeans. “Take off my belt.”
I don’t quite know what to make of my body’s response to his commands.
He feels more bold tonight, and I like the dark promise in the rasp of his voice.
But at the same time, a tingling sense of foreboding lingers at the nape of my neck, and goosebumps prickle across my skin with each directive.
Reaching between my spread thighs, I find the soft leather of his belt and tug.
The buckle gives easily, the creamy Italian hide slithering effortlessly through his belt loops, and I gasp when it slides free with a soft snap.
“Good girl,” Miko praises, his lips ghosting along my clavicle and down to my breasts.
His mouth closes around one taut nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as he suctions me against his lips, and swirls the hard nub until I whimper.
His hand palms my other breast, his finger and thumb trapping my nipple and giving it a sharp twist.
I cry out as pain-laced pleasure lances through my core, and a flood of arousal gushes from my depths to coat my already-slick folds.
He’s never been so rough with me before, but I find it strangely erotic—even as that tingling along my nape intensifies.
“Tell me you want my cock,” Miko commands, looking up at me from his meal of my breasts as his lips brush across the tender flesh.
His breath feels warm against the wet skin, and a biting cold follows in its absence.
“I want your cock,” I whisper, my legs quivering with anticipation.
With a smug smirk, Miko rears back to strip his jeans and boxers.
Then he falls on top of me once more, our bodies aligning perfectly.
“Are you ready for me, topolina?” he breathes against my throat, and my brain finally registers the scent that lingers around him tonight.
Whiskey. He and his brothers were drinking. And the warm, smokey smell lingers on his lips.
My breath catches, the oxygen freezing in my lungs as he takes his cockhead and strokes it between my folds, gathering my juices on his swollen tip.
He groans, the sound like a live wire jolting through my core, and my walls clench, desperate to pull him inside me.
“Always so eager for me,” he rasps. “Aren’t you?”
I nod, my words trapped behind my lips as I fight the tumultuous waves of emotion crashing through me like a storm.
Something about tonight feels different.
Maybe it’s the seed of doubt Sora planted in my mind—or maybe it’s that Miko smells like alcohol—but whatever it is, I can almost taste the potential brewing in the air.
Then Miko thrusts inside me, his thick, hard girth stretching me wide as he plunges deep and stills.
“Cazzo,” he growls, his forehead falling to the mattress as the muscles in his back tense and bunch beneath my hands.
“What?” I whisper, my anxiety jumping slightly.
Miko shakes his head, then slowly lifts it to look down at me with his electric gaze. “You feel so good, it makes me want to lose control,” he breathes, leaning in to capture my lips with such a tender kiss, it completely contradicts his words.
My entire spine is tingling now, goosebumps spreading across my arms and thighs as my walls clench around his impressive length. Miko groans, his hips rolling slowly as he grinds against my clit.
There wasn’t much foreplay tonight, but based on the intense waves of pleasure that crackle through my body, I didn’t need it.
I’m on the brink of coming, and we’ve only just begun.
My lips part, my head falling back as my eyelids sink closed, and I take a moment just to feel him moving inside me, his silky erection sliding effortlessly in and out of me as my slick excitement provides the perfect friction.
His calloused hands boldly explore my body, his fingers pressing into my skin as he grips my hips and reaches around to grab a handful of my ass.
Excitement zings through me as he tilts me up, changing the angle of my body and intensifying the depth of his thrusts.
He hisses, the sound dangerously erotic, as he starts to rock more powerfully, pressing into me with a force that lights up my nerve endings like a Christmas tree.
It’s not rough, exactly.
It’s ravenous, like no matter how deep he plunges, it’s not enough.
And god, he’s deep.
Deeper than he’s ever been before.
Every time our hips meet, a burst of sensation blasts through me.
Black dots dance across my vision, and without warning, I come hard.
“Fuck!” I scream, the cuss rushing from me unexpectedly as I start to squirm.
I don’t know how to cope with the sudden sensory overload.
It feels like Miko’s plunged a shot of adrenaline straight into my heart. My pulse roars in my ears, a brass ringing filling the void as I convulse beneath him.
My nails bite into his back as I cling to him like he’s the only thing stopping me from floating out of my body and vanishing into the black void of space.
Miko snarls, the sound deep and animalistic.
His hips jerk forward, his weight pressing down on me as he reaches back, one hand at a time, to snag my wrists.
With terrifying ease, he forces my hands over my head, his deep, penetrating thrusts never relenting as he fucks me through the single most intense orgasm of my life.
And when he has my hands pinned, my body trapped beneath him, he leans back just enough to find my gaze.
“Christ, Anika,” he rasps. “You’re going to make me lose my mind.”
His grip tightens around my wrists as he leans in, his eyes smoldering with intensity.
And all at once a heart-stopping terror grips me—as Miko’s face becomes Pyotr’s.
The sickening sneer of my dead husband takes the place of Miko’s devilish grin, Pyotr’s bloodshot eyes burning into me like a demon’s.
Suddenly, I’m reliving one of the worst moments of my life—the first time Pyotr came home drunk and dead set on putting a baby inside me.
My body goes as stiff as a board as Pyotr holds me down and shoves deep inside me, his unfocused gaze merciless.
Fear and pain tear through me as he takes what he wants without asking.
His greedy desire is brutal and unrelenting as he grips my wrists with bruising force, crushing them beneath his considerable weight.
The horror that freezes me threatens to choke the very life from my lungs. I can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think.
I’ve been plunged back into the cold, unforgiving reality of a marriage that will only end when Pyotr has wrung every ounce of joy from me—when he decides it’s time I join his first two wives in death so he can pick a fresh new bride.
“No, n-no!” I scream, thrashing beneath him as ice-cold panic rushes through my veins. “Get off of me, you sick bastard! Get off!”
Surprise registers in the back of my mind when, instead of laughing at me, Pyotr does as I say.
He freezes, seeming momentarily stunned, then releases my wrists, rocking back and pulling abruptly out of me in one dexterous motion.
Agonizing tremors rack my body as the world spins dangerously around me, past and present overlapping in a nauseating jumble of visuals.
Then my eyes lock on the penetrating blue gaze of the predator watching me, his body coiled, ready to pounce.